


Worth the Risks

by Entwinedlove



Series: Twelve Days of Xover Xmas [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17071934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwinedlove/pseuds/Entwinedlove
Summary: Natasha is lonely and on the run. None of her more recent cuddle partners are available so she seeks out one she hasn't spoken to in years. He welcomes her with open arms and without judgment.





	Worth the Risks

Of all Natasha's secrets that were uncovered when she dumped SHIELD-HYDRA's files onto the internet, she was glad one, in particular, wasn't. She'd always been very careful to hide it. Him.

They met in Ukraine while she was still working for the KGB. He'd been on vacation. They'd both been young and a little reckless and she didn't think she'd ever see him again.

Years later, as a part of SHIELD, she ran into him again in Bucharest. They exchanged telephone numbers but rarely spoke to one another.

But now, six months after the signing of the Accords, six months since the Avengers fell apart. Natasha was at wit's end. Normally the sentimentality of the holiday season didn't affect her but this year she really just wanted a warm body next to hers.

At one point it would have been Clint and Laura. At another, it could have been Bruce. Who she truly wanted now was of no consequence because he was heading to Wakanda because Barnes had been awoken from cryofreeze. Sam would do but he was also unavailable, headed to his sister's for the holiday. She'd warned him that showing up there could be dangerous but he'd reassured her that his sister and her family were capable of keeping his visit a secret, whatever that meant.

Natasha could have just dealt with the loneliness, of course, but she didn't want to. So she got another burner phone and texted the telephone number she had memorized.

_\- This is Natasha. I'd like to see you. I can be in Bucharest in a few hours._

_\- Oh, hey. I'm not in Romania at the moment. I'm at my parents' house in England._

_\- I can be there even faster. I should probably say I have a big secret that I need to tell you before you allow me near your family. It's dangerous._

_\- I'm sure it's fine. There's a rundown pub in Ottery St Catchpole proper, in Devon._

_\- I'll see you in an hour._

Natasha landed the Quinjet in stealth mode in a field a good distance away from the village center and walked. She entered, letting her gaze sweep over the interior. It was rundown, planked walls were a muddy brown and the entire place smelt like stale beer. It was also mostly empty, though it was only early afternoon. People coming home from their day jobs might stop in for dinner and a pint.

Besides the bartender, there was only one other occupant. She spotted his fiery red hair first and recognized him by the mischievous smile on his lips. He looked older than she remembered, though she knew they were both in their forties now. Having been given some form of the serum made her appear quite a bit younger these days. He held his age well. His hair was shoulder length but still as red as she remembered, his eyes a clear blue with a few wrinkles that made him distinguished. He still kept his face clean-shaven though there might have been a day's worth of stubble on his chin.

She joined him at the booth and his smile for her was warm and fond, reinforcing her decision to contact him.

"It's so good to see you, Natasha. How's life been treating you?"

"With indifference, mostly."

He nodded, accepting her answer without prodding further and asked, "Would you like a pint here? Mum's got cider, hot chocolate, and tea, of course, and there's bound to be a bottle of whiskey to spice it up hidden away somewhere but she tries to keep it out of the house these days. One of my brothers developed a problem with it years back."

Natasha glanced towards the bar. The bartender was eying her suspiciously even as he was wiping down a glass. When he set it down and picked up another, she could hear the tackiness of spilled ale on the wood. She looked away and gave Charlie a little smile. "I'm fine."

"I remember you drowning your emotions in vodka when we first met. You find a better coping method over the years?"

"I remember you joining me in my endeavors to drink myself blind."

Charlie let out a hearty laugh that had the bartender's eyes squinting in his direction instead. "Come on then, let's go for a walk and talk on the way. I can feel John's glare burning a hole in my head from here." He stood from the booth and Natasha followed him out the door into the cold December air.

They walked in companionable silence for several minutes along an old road that was more gravel than asphalt before Charlie looked over at her, giving her another grin. "So, what's your big dangerous secret?"

Now that it was time to share she felt her old habits of wanting to come up with something else prickling along her senses. She licked her lips and drew in a big breath, embracing the sharp feel of cold air inside her lungs. "I'm a spy."

He nodded but didn't say anything, just kept her in his periphery as they strolled along the lane.

"When we first met, I was also an assassin. For the KGB. Later, it was for SHIELD, an American organization. Then when that... went down, I was... an Avenger."

His grin softened and he asked, "Black Widow, right?"

She turned her head away from him for a few moments before nodding. "I voluntarily became a fugitive five months ago."

They walked in silence for another minute or so before he asked. "Why?" There was no hint of judgment in his voice. Not even a curiosity to delve deep into her motives. He would probably be content with some flippant answer but now that she'd shared this much, she felt she should share the rest.

"I made the wrong decision in signing the Sokovia Accords. I thought there would be room to negotiate. There's not. They can detain enhanced individuals indefinitely, they watch their every move. It gives power-hungry madmen carte blanche control over other people."

"Are you an _enhanced individual_?" he asked, again without judgment.

"That's one of the secrets about me that hasn't been uncovered yet. Most assume I'm not."

"And once you realized what they were going to do, you decided it was wrong and turned renegade, huh?" His tone had shifted slightly and there was a thread of humor in his voice.

She looked up at him, feeling puzzled. What about this situation was entertaining for him?

"I suppose it's time to let you in on my little—big—secret. I'm technically considered enhanced. My whole family. Most of my community, really. Or we would be if they knew about us. You're safe here. Any of your friends are safe here."

"There's an entire community of enhanced individuals living in Devon?"

"We're worldwide."

"What can you do?" Her eyes followed his thickly muscular frame. Was it strength-related?

"I'm a wizard."

She stopped walking abruptly, her weight even caused her to wobble with forward momentum. "A wizard? Like red lights and mind reading?"

"That's Scarlet Witch, right? From what I've read about her, her powers were created. Mine are innate. Here, let me show you." He pulled a small wooden dowel from his pocket and held it out in front of him. He pointed it at the half-broken fence nearby and caused the boards to levitate. "That's just one of the many things I can do."

"And it's not just here in Britain?"

"I work with dragons in Romania."

"Dragons?"

He bit his bottom lip and nodded. The action didn't hide his amusement. She resumed walking, then, at a quicker pace. She let her mind analyze every interaction she'd had with him and though there were moments that she thought could have been magic they weren't completely outlandish. Before she could start running through her memory of interactions with everyone she'd ever come into contact with Charlie interrupted her.

He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled gently, turning her to face a tall, narrow house that looked like it would fall over with the slightest breeze. "I needed to tell you because, like I said, my family's all witches and wizards, and you're going to see plenty of magic if you walk through that door with me." He rolled his eyes and added, "Also, my mum's going to go bonkers when she sees you—I've never brought anyone home before. I'll try to field any questions away from you if you want—"

"I can handle it." She was looking at the slapdashed cottage in front of her with something like awe. Beyond it, she could see an apple orchard. "This is real, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Come on, it'll be cozy-warm inside the Burrow."

She nodded and followed him down the short path that led to the front door.

* . * . *

The inside of the towering cottage was decorated in every conceivable way. There was spruce garland along the tops of the walls, there were sprigs of holly and mistletoe at every doorway. There were dozens of stockings pinned against the walls everywhere rather than just on the mantle. Charlie pointed out his and then with a flick of his wand, created an identical one with her name on it before pulling her down to cuddle on the sofa in front of the blazing fire.

Interestingly, Mrs. and Mr. Weasley didn't notice the extra redhead in their midst until it was time to sit down for dinner. When she was noticed, Mrs. Weasley smiled and fussed over her a little, teasing that it was about time Charlie brought a friend home, before conjuring up an extra place setting next to him. Beyond introductions and a mild interest in how they met—which Charlie fielded as, "on my first vacation after I moved to Romania"—no one pried into Natasha's life.

She was warned that more family would be arriving soon for Christmas. Later, snuggled next to Charlie in his bed under a thick pile of warm blankets, he elaborated on his large family and their past as resistance fighters in their own magical war.

When she thought he was asleep she murmured, "I'm glad I decided to contact you."

"Me too," he whispered.


End file.
